Pimp, These fragments I have shored against my ruins

“The Chair” is now publicly available

A story of mine originally published in Nature is now available online, and you can read it here.

The bathroom. The toilet whines: ketone and oestrogen levels of the day’s users, medical flowcharts of drugs and dosage, the most recent ex-wife’s ovulation schedule. The chair had liked the most recent ex-wife: so fixated on the politics of accessibility that she’d signed over unprecedented amounts of control, convinced that the illusion of autonomy could somehow compensate for the frailty of her husband’s dying flesh. She’d left when her particular vein of interest dried up: when the bone marrow proved unviable, and there could be no baby. The chair had encouraged her, spoken for its passenger as it always did — You have given me so much, darling, more than you can ever know — and if she ever knew the difference, she was far past caring.

Charles A. Tan tells me that the story may have only been made available recently, so I feel a bit less foolish. But if it’s been available since 2009, and not stuck behind a paywall, I’m going to feel pretty damn stupid.